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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064696">True Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antosha/pseuds/Antosha'>Antosha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Fidelius Charms, Flaming Nargle Other Character Challenge, Fluff and Angst, Horcrux Hunting, Luna Lovegood Being Luna Lovegood, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Multi, Pansexual Luna Lovegood, Polyamory, Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Pre-Threesome, Sex While Using Polyjuice Potion, Spymaster Hermione, flaming nargles, odd food, proxy sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:54:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,255</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24064696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antosha/pseuds/Antosha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Light makes one blind. Light makes one wise. (Hermione discovers Luna's secret. Written pre-DH.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Here is my entry for the flamingnargle Other Character Challenge.</p>
<p>Challenge: Who--Hermione. What--Fidelius Charm</p>
<p>Thanks to my wonderful beta, aberforths_rug, who held my hand through all of this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Staring out of the grimy window, Hermione wondered for the four hundred and thirty-second time which was worse: the Polyjuice, or the guilt?</p>
<p>At that moment it was certainly the Polyjuice. Having just finished her third dose, she could feel the potion's effects on her body--the muscles knotting and unknotting. Bones shifting. And that was to say nothing of the revolting flavor.</p>
<p>The weak, cold tea in her cup did nothing to alleviate <em>that</em>, and Hermione still didn't feel it worth the risk to taste the nauseous green cake that had been flung at her by the surly West Indian waitress.</p>
<p>At least Hermione knew what was in the Polyjuice Potion, having brewed it herself. The cake--well, there was no telling in what decade it had been… assembled, let alone with what ingredients.</p>
<p>As Hermione's stomach and joints slowly settled, she caught a glimpse of herself in the half-reflection afforded by the window. Grey hair, pudgy face. Non-descript. She felt a bit guilty having snatched a brushful of hair belonging to her parents' neighbor, Mrs. Morcomb. But the stodgy woman was the perfect camouflage. Neither so attractive nor so ugly that people would notice, neither young nor old--non-descript. The perfect word.</p>
<p>Of course, if Harry hadn't used the Invisibility Cloak…</p>
<p>That thought triggered the guilt again, sending it back above the hated potion in her short mental list of Things That Make This Day Horrid.</p>
<p>If only she hadn't found the hairs. If only she hadn't insisted on taking her turn doing the laundry, when Harry and Ron each seemed content to do it. But no, Bossy Hermione <em>had</em> to butt in.</p>
<p>Three short, fine, curly hairs in Harry's pants, along with several sleaker black ones. But these three were blonde.</p>
<p>She should have confronted Harry, of course. But… Poor Harry. He had no one to confide in, did he? She and Ron had each other--she was used to finding brown curls in Ron's knickers and red ones in her own. If the pubic hair that she'd found had been that same sunset red, Hermione would most likely have smiled and let it go. She certainly wouldn't have mentioned it to Ron--not that she'd mentioned <em>these</em> ones. She'd wanted to be sure.</p>
<p>So when Harry had surreptitiously grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and quietly exited Grimmauld Place, Hermione had grabbed a flask of Polyjuice, some of Mrs. Marcomb's hair, and her Spectrespecs, and followed him.</p>
<p>They'd all gotten far too good at tailing and shaking tails over the past few months. He'd counted on the cloak to hide him, not knowing that he was being followed by someone with glasses that could pierce its spell. Even so, he had resorted to all of the tricks that they had learned from Tonks--and deadly experience. Harry led her a miserable chase, on and off of Underground trains, circling blocks, until at last he'd stopped in front of a small shop--the window was full of gaudy colored wigs. After standing still for a moment, scanning the block from under his cloak, Harry had opened a door--not the shop door--and climbed a set of stairs that Hermione could only assume led to a flat.</p>
<p>That had been nearly two hours before. He hadn't reappeared.</p>
<p>Hermione had set herself up in the café across from the wig store, pretending to sip at her awful tea, and watching the building opposite.</p>
<p>She had noticed other watchers occasionally. Two women dressed as nannies she immediately recognized as Aurors. They stopped on the pavement and pretended to chat for nearly half an hour, taking turns scanning the building and the street. They'd wandered on, only to be replaced twenty minutes or so later by a Sikh gentleman who had taken an inordinate amount of time fixing a broken shoelace. He had just left fifteen minutes before.</p>
<p>Who was <em>she</em>? It was clear what Harry was doing with her, but <em>why</em>?</p>
<p>Hermione felt her stomach churn again, and this time it had nothing to do with Polyjuice Potion or even hunger. The fact was that she felt deeply conflicted. A part of her wished Harry whatever relief he could find--if anyone deserved it, it was Harry. A part of her was terrified that he would break their carefully maintained cover--that he was sleeping with a Death Eater or Ministry spy, and that, eventually, she would learn his secrets, and then they would all be in danger.</p>
<p>And a part of her was furious on Ginny's behalf.</p>
<p>It wasn't as if Harry hadn't been moping about her ever since the wedding the previous summer--even Ron noticed, which itself counted as a major miracle. How could Harry do that to Ginny who--Hermione was certain--wasn't sneaking off to any <em>boy</em>?</p>
<p>Come to think of it, Harry wasn't moping anywhere near as much of late. Blast. She should have been able to read the signs sooner. The feeling of guilt flowed up through her, stronger than any nausea. Stronger even than her anger.</p>
<p>Guilt that she had failed Harry. Guilt that she had failed Ginny. Guilt that she had failed herself and Ron--that Harry was doing something patently stupid and dangerous (nothing new there) that might get all three of them killed.</p>
<p>Hermione looked up again. Where was he? Two hours seemed rather… excessive. She was sure that he couldn't have gotten away over the roof--it was low and slanted towards the street, so that it was almost entirely visible. And the space behind the building looked to be more of an airshaft than a back garden. It certainly didn't seem to open up to any alleyways. And he couldn't Apparate into Grimmauld Place--the Fidelius Charm was a curse as well as a blessing sometimes. She assumed that he couldn't Apparate into or out of wherever he was in that building, or he wouldn't have taken such lengths to get here.</p>
<p>Perhaps the girl was a Muggle, and he didn't want to frighten her?</p>
<p>There was a shimmer across the street--the cheeky bastard <em>had</em> Apparated all right--from one side of the door to the other, still under his cloak! He wanted to make sure no one questioned the door mysteriously opening.</p>
<p>Hermione tossed a few pounds down onto the table and shuffled quickly toward the door, banging into a gentleman with his arm in a sling.</p>
<p>“Oi!” the man groaned churlishly.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Hermione said, trying not to lose sight of her best friend.</p>
<p>He was gone.</p>
<p>Sprinting through the door, Hermione craned Mrs. Morcomb's short neck around, seeking Harry's shimmering form. Nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>Blast and double blast.</p>
<p>He might have gone back the way he came, but that would be bad tradecraft. No. She'd catch up to him back at Grimmauld Place. In the mean time…</p>
<p>The wig shop and the flat above squatted innocuously across the street. Before she could even consider what she was doing, Hermione began to walk towards the door. Should she Apparate in? No--that would eliminate all of Mrs. Morcomb's banality. Didn't want to do anything too obvious. Clutching her wand in her purse, she wordlessly cast an Unlocking Charm, opened the door, and shuffled up the stairs as it slammed behind her, her stride neither too quick nor too slow. Didn't want to attract attention.</p>
<p>At the top of the stairs was a blank wall--rather odd. A landing led to the door to what was obviously the only flat in the building; the paint on the door, which looked to have been yellow once upon a time, was chipped and graying; a tarnished letter A hung crookedly at eye-level. Before she could stop herself, Hermione raised her hand and knocked.</p>
<p>The indignant squawks of what sounded like several cats let Hermione know that her knock had been heard. A muffled grunt, and the sound of shuffling, and the door groaned open.</p>
<p>“Yes? Whatcha want?” Whatever image Hermione may have had of Harry's love nest and his trollop, this wasn't it. The woman who peered up at Hermione was eighty if she was a day, so old that her race was impossible to guess--shriveled face the color of green tea, hair the color of snow. No teeth. “D'you 'ear? Whatcha want?” the old woman bellowed, evidently believing Hermione to be deaf or simple. Three spindle-legged cats staggered towards the door.</p>
<p>“I… I saw my daughter's friend come out of here just a moment ago. I tried to…”</p>
<p>“Outta 'ere, d'you say? None o' that! No girls round 'ere, no boys neither, 'spite what those bollocksbrains from the council arsked… Lo'--yer not fum ther council, too?” Her face began to darken, taking on a muddy tint, and she was fully yelling now. “I told 'em, I's d'only one lived up here. Only one flat. No boys comin' or goin'. Now if yer tryin' to raise me rates…!”</p>
<p>“No, Mrs… Madam. I'm only looking…”</p>
<p>The woman flung the door in Hermione's face. Through it, Hermione could hear the bolt slide home, followed by muttering--”Bloody council!” and “Fool woman!”--that was finally drowned out by the yowling of the cats.</p>
<p>Well.</p>
<p><em>That</em> had been decidedly odd.</p>
<p>Hermione would have staked her life on it that the woman was a Muggle. There'd been no feeling of magic about her <em>at all</em>, and what little Hermione had seen of the flat spoke of a lonely, mundane London existence. Why in goodness' name would Harry have come to such a place?</p>
<p>And the woman didn't seem to be lying--though her paranoia about the council too struck Hermione as rather odd.</p>
<p>She was rubbing her temples when a familiar, airy voice pierced her confusion. “Hello, Hermione.”</p>
<p>“How…?” Spinning around, Hermione was confronted with a sight much more like the one she had expected to find behind the yellow door. “<em>LUNA</em>?”</p>
<p>Luna Lovegood was standing in the stairwell dressed as Hermione had never imagined her to be dressed, in a loosely tied, emerald silk robe and a camisole that barely covered her navel. Nothing else. She cocked her head, eyes diffuse and blue, hair a wild tangle of…</p>
<p>Blonde. Blonde, curly hair.</p>
<p>“Hermione, why are you staring at my pudenda?”</p>
<p>“Where… <em>Luna</em>!” Hermione's eyes slammed shut. “Where did you come from?”</p>
<p>“Ottery St Catchpole, not far from the Weasleys,” the airy voice responded. “But you knew that.”</p>
<p>Hermione snapped, “I mean, where did you come from, <em>just now</em>. You can't have been wandering the <em>streets </em>dressed like that!” Then again, with Luna, anything was possible. <em>Oh, Harry.<br/></em></p>
<p>“Oh,” Luna said. “Hermione, I need you to look at me.”</p>
<p>“Erm, do you mind fastening your robe shut?” Was it the sight of the other girl's body, or knowing that Harry had just been <em>cavorting</em> with her that was troubling Hermione so? With Ginny's best friend aside from Hermione. <em>Oh, Ginny.<br/></em></p>
<p>“I forget sometimes,” Luna sighed. “I don't dress much these days.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh!<br/></em>
</p>
<p>“You can open your eyes now, Hermione.” <em>How…?</em> “Hermione, I need you to open your eyes and look at me.”</p>
<p>Timidly squeezing her lids open, Hermione was relieved to find that Luna had in fact covered herself--though the robe left very little of the other girl's lank frame to the imagination. “How did you know?--"</p>
<p>“Look at me, Hermione,” Luna said in a tone that managed to be both authoritative and diffuse. “I'll tell you in a moment. Now, keep looking into my eyes and listen. Are you listening? Good. <em>I, Luna Lovegood, live at number 221B, Lesotho Road, London</em>. There.”</p>
<p>The blue wash of Luna's eyes softened somewhat, and Hermione was shocked--though as soon as she saw it she realized she <em>shouldn't </em>have been--to see a bright yellow doorway squeeze its way into existence behind Luna, just at the top of the stairs. On the opened door was a jaunty brass letter B.</p>
<p>“Oh,” muttered Hermione.</p>
<p>“Would you like to come in?” Luna sighed, not waiting for a response, but sashaying through the doorway and disappearing into the flat within.</p>
<p>As Hermione was about to close the door behind herself, Luna called out, “Don't bother to close it. No one can see in, you know. It's very useful to know who's come looking.”</p>
<p>“Looking?”</p>
<p>“For Harry, of course. Or Ginny.” Luna had unfolded herself onto a rather odd looking chaise beneath the rear window, which overlooked the airshaft whose existence Hermione had surmised from front of the building.</p>
<p>Harry. Ginny. <em>Right.</em> “Luna. How could you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, it was rather difficult. But after I helped you recast the charm at Grimmauld--"</p>
<p>“No, no,” Hermione snapped, “not the Fidelius Charm. You and Harry. How could you do that?”</p>
<p>Luna blinked and looked around. Pointing in to where a very disheveled bed took up most of a tiny room, she said, “Well, we've done it all sorts of ways, Hermione. Do you want me to tell you--"</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>! Luna. Please. Not that. I mean,” Hermione pressed on, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, “how could you do that to <em>Ginny</em>?”</p>
<p>Luna's mouth flopped open, and for a mad moment, Hermione was tempted to ask her about Spurt-rats or whatever they were. “Oh. Well, Ginny and I have tried a number of different way as well. Are you sure that you really--"</p>
<p>“WHAT?” Hermione found her pudgy Mrs Morcomb hands clutching at her flabby Mrs Morcomb hair. <em>If I plucked this hair now and put it into Polyjuice, would I…?</em> “Luna, what on <em>earth</em> are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“Well, I wasn't going to talk about that, I didn't imagine that <em>you</em> would want to,” Luna mused, her usually smooth brow warped in concentration. “But after all, you seemed to want to know--"</p>
<p>“<em>HOW LONG HAVE YOU AND HARRY BEEN CHEATING ON YOUR BEST FRIEND, LUNA?</em>”</p>
<p>“<em>I'm</em> Luna. I can't imagine how I would cheat on myself. My best friend is <em>Ginny</em>. And Harry too, I suppose. I think you're confused, Hermione. Perhaps it is the Polyjuice Potion.” Luna looked up at Hermione with a look of mild concern. “Would you like a cold compress?”</p>
<p>Hermione's legs began to give way; she lowered herself into a spindly chair. Scraps of parchment crumpled beneath her. Her hand came to rest on a strip of silk that seemed to be knotted to the arm of the chair. The pit of her stomach twisted. “Erm. No thank you. But… I haven't eaten.”</p>
<p>“That wasn't terribly wise of you,” Luna said. Hermione glared dizzily at her, but Luna's smile was warm and surprisingly maternal. “Would you like a sandwich?”</p>
<p>Hermione's stomach whinged.</p>
<p>“Sit,” Luna said. As she passed on the way to the tiny galley kitchen, she touched the top of Hermione's head.</p>
<p>Once she had passed, Hermione took a deep breath and looked around. The sitting room was crammed with odds and ends--various tiny, odd-looking skeletons, take-away cartons, and many, many books. The silk band was slithering its way around Hermione's wrist, apparently attempting to bind her. She pulled her arm free and stood, still a bit light-headed.</p>
<p>In the kitchen, Luna was humming something tuneless, keeping the beat with the clack of the knife against the cutting board.</p>
<p>Unstable legs leading the way, Hermione tottered into the bedroom. The double bed was extremely disheveled, showing all of the signs of having recently seen a great deal of use.</p>
<p>Hermione sat again, this time on the top of the battered mahogany dresser. Her bum pushed aside a brush and several more books, one bearing the intriguing title <em>Advanced Amatorial Magic</em> by Psyche Lovegood.</p>
<p>Sticking out from its pages was a long, shiny hair: bright, sunset red, a shade she knew all too well, though the hair was too long by half to be Ron's. Books, candles and scrolls covered most of the surfaces in the small bedroom. Sexual paraphernalia peeked out of odd corners--some Hermione recognized from experience; some she knew from her own <em>research</em>; and some--she lifted a complicated arrangement of buckles and straps from a drawer, only to drop it again--she could only guess at.</p>
<p>Plucking the hair out of <em>Advanced Amatorial Magic</em> and winding it around her finger, Hermione sat, mind racing, eyes peering sightlessly at the bed. Arms, torsos and legs, red hair, black and blonde--visions washed across her mental cinema screen. She felt herself becoming faint again.</p>
<p>“Here you are,” Luna murmured. “You can eat in here if you'd like. I do all of the time.” Blue eyes like the sky after rain.</p>
<p>Hermione's stomach twisted, growling again; she took the plate that Luna proffered and, scarcely pausing, picked up the brown-bread sandwich and bit at it greedily.</p>
<p>The sandwich was <em>delicious</em>, but in the oddest possible way. Peering down at it, Hermione saw that it was piled high with some sort of meat, and dripping with a glistening, red-flecked gold spread of some sort.</p>
<p>“Salametti and pepper jelly,” sighed Luna, and suddenly Hermione wasn't all too certain that she wanted a second bite, delicious though it may have been. “It was one of my favorites as a child,” Luna continued. “My mother always believed that the perfect meal balanced sweet, salt, hot and sour--that if you could eat in balance, then you could face the day in balance.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” answered Hermione, hazarding another bite and discovering that the sandwich did indeed taste as good as she had thought the first time, odd ingredients notwithstanding. They sat there as Hermione devoured the sandwich as daintily as she could manage--months of living alone with two teen morons had not favored her manners, she knew. When she had finished, Luna offered an open bottle of butterbeer, which Hermione accepted.</p>
<p>After a time, Hermione's hunger and thirst were finally sated, but her curiosity burned just as hot. “So,” she said, putting down the butterbeer, feeling the heat and coolness of her meal filling her middle happily, “you and Harry and Ginny are engaged in a <em>ménage à trois</em>.”</p>
<p>Luna blinked. “A… a what?”</p>
<p>“A <em>ménage à trois</em>, a sexual relationship involving three people.”</p>
<p>Cocking her head to the side slightly, Luna gazed at Hermione in a fashion that made Hermione feel as if perhaps she, Hermione, were quite mad. “No, not really,” Luna said finally. “No, not at all.”</p>
<p>“But…”</p>
<p>“I'm not involved, you see, not <em>really</em>.” A sad smile spread over Luna's placid face. “I'm simply a medium. A conduit. It's not as if <em>I'm</em> Harry or Ginny's lover.”</p>
<p>Now Hermione felt muddle-headed. It must have been the butterbeer, she decided. “Luna, you said… You implied that you'd been intimate with both Harry and Ginny.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” Luna answered, nodding. “Oh, yes, of course I have, because you see after that first time they've never been able to be intimate together.”</p>
<p>The muddle-headedness was getting worse. “Luna, I'm afraid I don't understand. What exactly has been going on--I mean, not exactly, but what did the three of you <em>intend</em> with this place?”</p>
<p>Luna's smile broadens. “Oh, that's an easy question to answer. It was meant as a place for Harry and Ginny to be together, of course. Once I'd learned the Fidelius Charm while helping you, I realized that I should probably protect my flat, especially after what happened last summer to Daddy.”</p>
<p>Images of the flaming Quibbler offices flashed through Hermione's suggestible brain; she suppressed a shudder. “Yes. That makes sense.”</p>
<p>“Ginny helped, you see,” continued Luna, her tone just as light as before. “You know, of course, just how difficult the Arithmancy and Runes involved can be, even in a space as small as this one, and so it was nice to have another person to share the work, especially someone as pleasant as Ginny.”</p>
<p>Hermione nodded, feeling the strand of impossibly red hair wrapped around her finger.</p>
<p>“Of course,” Luna said, “she wasn't particular pleasant this past fall, knowing that you and her brother and Harry were incommunicado, and that you might be in danger, and that we couldn't help--that <em>she </em>couldn't help--and that there was no way to see Harry again. And so I offered my flat, once the charms were set, because of course that would be the safest place.”</p>
<p>“But why didn't she simply come to Grimmauld Place?” Hermione's mind was trying to sort out the way of things--Ginny's mind was usually logical enough, if prone to exuberant leaps, but Luna's logic was alternately puzzling and breathtaking.</p>
<p>“Ah, well, I thought that was rather silly too, but she was quite insistent--she felt certain that Harry wouldn't welcome her there and that her brother would be quite opposed to her engaging in sexual activity under the same roof as him.”</p>
<p>That seemed a reasonable enough assessment, Hermione was forced to admit.</p>
<p>“In any case, she hadn't been given the location by the Secret Keeper--you--while I had. So once we had activated the charm here, just after New Year's, I went over to number twelve. The three of you were out, and so I left two notes for Harry--one from myself, informing him of my Secret, and the other from Ginny, inviting him to join her for a liaison.” Luna's face suddenly got even more elsewhere-focused than usual, which was quite remarkable. “The two of them… It was quite beautiful.”</p>
<p>“What?” Hermione asked. “You didn't leave?”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Luna said, color coming to her pale face. “I meant to, of course. But I had not expected a squad of Aurors to be searching around the building. They had followed Ginny, you see. There were three of them on the landing. There was no way for me to get out. And so I…” The red on Luna's face bloomed. “I stayed in the loo, since that's the furthest place from the bedroom, but I could hear them, you see, and I… It truly was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.” She shivered and gathered the green silk more tightly about her bony body. “When they had… finished, I came and informed them of our predicament. We tried to wait, but even after the Aurors had left the building, they kept a watch on the door, and so the minute that Ginny tried to sneak out, they grabbed her and questioned her concerning her activities, and, in particular, about Harry and his whereabouts. It was quite dreadful. Her father had to threaten to bring the Minister up before the Wizengamot for incarcerating a minor without just cause or due process. I don't think that made Mr. Weasley very popular with his employer.”</p>
<p>Hermione sighed, “I would imagine not.”</p>
<p>“Well, after that, there was no way for them to come together. They had Aurors follow Ginny twenty-four hours a day. She cannot Apparate yet, though she has been studying very hard, and in any case one cannot Apparate into a house under the Fidelius Charm, as you know.”</p>
<p>The two young women nodded together in understanding.</p>
<p>“I could not connect this flat up to the Floo Network for fear of Ministry interference. That meant that in order to come here, Harry and Ginny would need to walk. And even if Ginny 'shakes her tail,' which I think is quite a delightful metaphor, they know where she's going; there's a watch on this door around the clock.”</p>
<p>“How dreadful that the Minister has expended resources on this surveillance when they are so badly needed elsewhere!” Hermione gasped.</p>
<p>“Well,” Luna said with a shrug, “Minister Scrimgeour seems as obsessed as Minister Fudge was with cabals and conspiracies. His complicity with the Rotfang faction and his continued support for the army of Heliopaths first gathered by his predecessor are obvious manifestations of his paranoia.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Hermione said.</p>
<p>Luna smiled. “In any case, we all soon realized that there was no way that Harry could come here while Ginny was visiting--the chances that he would be discovered and possibly captured were all too real.”</p>
<p>Hermione thought back on Harry's desperate gloom at the beginning of the winter. <em>Of course</em>, she thought. <em>I can't believe I didn't see it</em>. “Luna.” Hermione peered at the other girl. “Why are you telling me all of this? I mean--some of it is quite private, isn't it?”</p>
<p>After a moment's reflection, Luna nodded. “I suppose it is. But I think Harry would want you to know, and Ginny too. Well, not about their lovemaking being beautiful, they're both rather shy about that, but you always seem to be so discreet--I wish that I could be as discreet as you are. In any case, I have also been worried that, if something should happen to myself and Harry while we were here, no one would know where to look and Ginny only comes on days when Harry won't be here.”</p>
<p>“That makes… sense,” Hermione said.</p>
<p>“It was Ginny's idea, originally,” Luna went on.</p>
<p>“What was?”</p>
<p>Again, that cock-headed look. “Why, that I serve as a sort of intermediary between them. Harry had managed to visit and leave her notes on a few occasions, and she continued to visit when she knew he would not be here; suddenly she realized that if we could brew some Polyjuice Potion, I could be Harry for her and Ginny for him.”</p>
<p>“Oh!” It had never occurred to Hermione that one could take on the shape of someone of the opposite gender, but of <em>course</em>… “But, Luna, that takes <em>months</em> to brew!”</p>
<p>“Yes, and neither of them were willing to wait, of course. So Harry borrowed some from your stores. I began brewing a batch immediately, and we've been replenishing your store of Polyjuice for the past two months. I believe we've actually contributed rather more than we originally took.”</p>
<p>Hermione shook her head. “I can't <em>believe</em> I didn't notice…” She looked up at Luna. “So you make love to Ginny as <em>Harry</em>?”</p>
<p>Again, Luna smiled broadly. “Oh, yes.”</p>
<p>Before she could stop herself, Hermione asked, “<em>How does it feel?</em>”</p>
<p>Luna's grin became quite beatific; she lay back on the bed, her eyes focused elsewhere, as they so often seemed to be. “It's quite, quite lovely,” she said at last. “The sex itself is rather different, though I prefer it as a girl. But the moment of orgasm is quite remarkable.”</p>
<p>Hermione found herself giggling. “You're Tiresias,” she laughed, and Luna joined her, both of them howling, and for the first time Hermione felt truly connected to Luna: this was <em>her</em> friend. Not Ginny's, or Neville's, or Harry's.</p>
<p>Harry and Ginny.</p>
<p>When they had stopped laughing, Hermione found herself climbing onto the bed with Luna, who was staring up at the ceiling. They stared up together.</p>
<p>Hermione had had fantasies about making love to more than one person. Most people had them, she was sure. Over the years, images of herself in bed with Ron and Viktor--or even with Ron and his sister or with their twin brothers--had been staples of her imagination's erotic repertoire. And lately she and Ron had each teased the other with images of inviting Harry into their bed.</p>
<p>In all of these lovely sexual daydreams, Hermione saw herself between the other two--at the focal point, luxuriating in the attention of not just one but two wonderful lovers.</p>
<p>But those were just games. Fantasies.</p>
<p>Hermione turned her head to discover that Luna was peering at her, those disconcerting blue eyes shockingly close and shockingly focused. “Luna?” Hermione whispered.</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“How do <em>you</em> feel about all of this?” Luna raised an eyebrow and Hermione felt the blood rush to her face. “I would think… aside from the obvious… I mean, had you ever even had a boyfriend?”</p>
<p>Luna's quizzical look was all the more unsettling at close range. “No. I hadn't. What difference does that make?”</p>
<p>Closing her eyes, Hermione tried to frame an answer that even Luna could interpret in only one way--not an easy exercise. “It seems to me,” she said at last, “that I should feel rather lonely if I was doing what you are doing. Not having someone… of my own.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Luna said, and there was a small catch in her voice that made Hermione regret asking the question. “Ah. Yes, I sometimes do.” Luna's bulbous eyes returned to the ceiling, to the web of cracks that spread from one corner. “When I was little,” Luna said, her voice very soft and low, “I used to like to think that I was invisible, that no one could see me. After my mother died I went for weeks pretending that I didn't exist. And then one day Mrs Weasley came over to visit--to make sure my father and I weren't starving, I think, because she brought enough food for a week of meals at the Burrow--and she brought Ginny. And Ginny <em>saw</em> me. She saw me and teased me and played with me, and she called me <em>Loony</em>, but where every other child who ever called me that used the name to make me more invisible, Ginny used it to draw me out, to become myself. It was as if I had been living a shadow life, and suddenly the sun shone upon me and I was alive.”</p>
<p>Rolling onto her side, Hermione looked at the blonde girl and listened.</p>
<p>“When you and Harry started the DA, it was the same. Some of the people--Cho Chang and Marietta and that awful Smith boy--pretended that I didn't really exist. But Ginny didn't, and so Michael and some of the other Ravenclaws didn't. And Neville didn't. And Harry didn't. Harry <em>saw</em> me, Hermione. I could feel it. Only instead of sunlight, like with Ginny, it was lightning in the darkness, and a bit frightening, do you understand?”</p>
<p>Hermione nodded. She knew what Luna meant about the flash of her friend's green eyes.</p>
<p>“Did you feel it, Hermione,” Luna said, and her eyes were slowly leaking, “did you see it at the beginning of last year, did you see what happened to Harry when he began to fall in love with Ginny? It was a light, again, but a light so terrible, so sublime… On the train ride up, I could see it, even if he couldn't, that something profound and wonderful and awful was happening to him, like a star about to born in the bowels of space, and I sat there reading my magazine almost crying. But then, you see, he <em>saw </em>me again, and my whole heart felt lighter. And when he invited me to go with him to Professor Slughorn's party <em>as his friend</em>, I…”</p>
<p>Breathless, Hermione waited as Luna fought to breathe.</p>
<p>“The first time I saw them kissing by the lake, I wept, Hermione, because I had never seen anything so beautiful. It was all that I could have wished.” Blinking, Luna turned toward her. “So, no, I've never had a boyfriend.”</p>
<p>Hermione touched her friend's damp cheek. “You're in love with them both, aren't you?”</p>
<p>“Well, of course I am,” Luna said, her smile placid once again. Then she frowned. “If I am Tiresias,” she said, “is it because I am blind or because I am wise?”</p>
<p>Laughing, Hermione kissed Luna's brow. “It's because you're you.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Luna said. “This is very nice, Hermione. Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Luna,” Hermione said, “thank <em>you</em>. Thank you for giving Harry and Ginny so much. They are wonderful. And life hasn't been terribly fair to them. But it is very good of you to give so much of yourself without asking anything in return.”</p>
<p>“I think I get quite a bit. They aren't <em>really </em>my lovers, I know, but it feels as if they were, and that's something that I want so…” Alarmed, Luna bit her lips closed. “Well. Yes. I do. Well, Hermione, your hair is beginning to curl. You should take another dose before the potion wears off entirely. It's much less pleasant to have to go through a full transformation, you know.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I do know,” Hermione answered, though there were many other things that she wanted to say. Standing from the bed she began to walk back toward the sitting room, where her purse and flask waited. “Luna… How did you recognize me?”</p>
<p>“Oh, that was easy. It was how you knocked.” Luna raised her hand to the headboard and knocked out a rhythm that was clearly recognizable as <em>Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-yay</em>. Hermione's father always knocked that way; she wasn't aware that she did the same. “I think,” Luna continued, “that I would have known you anyway, however.”</p>
<p>“I'm sure you would,” said Hermione taking out the flask and swallowing another noxious dose. As her bones and joints rearranged themselves, a thought occurred to her. “Luna, did you take more than one dose of Polyjuice?”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, I never do.” Luna's lips pursed as if she were remembering something long forgotten. “Well, not in the past few months, in any case. How odd.”</p>
<p>That was when Hermione suspected. She tried to imagine Harry having sex with an unconcealed Luna without… No. She could see <em>Ron</em> doing that before Harry. It had been <em>Luna</em> that he-- “I see. Well, thank you so much for the sandwich and the conversation. I have been rather trapped of late in the company of boys.”</p>
<p>“Very nice boys,” Luna pointed out.</p>
<p>“True, but boys nonetheless. Please give my love to Ginny.” Once again giving in to instinct, she pulled Luna into an embrace. The skinny body stiffened in surprise before relaxing. Yes. There on the lapel of the dressing gown was embroidered, <em>To Ginny, with love, Monster</em>. It was a code name Harry used with her. “Where did you get this robe, Luna?”</p>
<p>“Why, Ginny gave it to me of course. I think she wanted to think of him making love to me in it while I looked like her, you see.”</p>
<p>Considering this, Hermione thought of the small cache of objects that Ginny had received from Harry over the years: the get-well card from just after he had saved her from Tom Riddle, the lace he had lent her for her Quidditch robes, the blocky drawing of himself with a dragon tattoo on his chest--small things that Harry probably had no memory of, most of which he hadn't been aware of giving her at the time, but every one of which was treasured. And <em>this</em>? His first true gift to her?</p>
<p>And Harry had made love to <em>Luna</em> in that robe. Had made <em>love</em> to her, <em>after</em> the Polyjuice had worn off. On that Hermione would have bet her copy of <em>Hogwarts: A History</em>.</p>
<p>That is when Hermione <em>knew</em>. She shook her head and pulled Luna close. “I think it's more then that, Luna.” She gave her perplexed friend another squeeze and kiss on the cheek, said her goodbyes, and then wrapped herself in Mrs. Morcomb's unobtrusive body and left number 221B, Lesotho Road with a small, non-descript wave.</p>
<p>Light makes one blind. Light makes one wise. The moon does not shine by its own light, but it shines nonetheless; it is through the moon's light that the fierce sun marries the deep, enduring night.</p>
<p>Riding the Underground back toward Grimmauld Place, Hermione thought of all of this. She thought of the fact that two of the people that she loved most in the world loved Luna Lovegood, and of the fact that Luna was keeping their love and their secret alive. She thought of all of this, and she was surprised to find that it filled her with contentment, even when she considered the danger of their current situation and the uncertainties of war. No guilt. No indecision. Love, after all, was good.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Epilogue - Opposite of an Eclipse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luna is always the first to understand and the last to know.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So after I wrote True Moon, I had a discussion with someone(s)--tunxeh and aberforths_rug?--about writing a fic that looks at everyone else's reaction to Luna's serving as a medium between Harry and Ginny. I think we even discussed it being a drabble mini-epic.</p><p>Here it is!</p><p>Thanks to my wonderful beta, aberforths_rug!</p><p>Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Poly. Proxy (Oy! Again, again!).</p><p>Length: 13 x 100 words exactly</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Ginny notices, they've just finished making love for the third time that afternoon when the black hair that's in her face begins to spill onto her shoulder and to lighten. They are both panting, stunned, and even she barely notices Harry's hard angles softening into Luna's curves.</p><p>Fear—shock?—freezes the last flutters of passion in Ginny's belly. Should she…? What can she do?</p><p>“I love you,” Luna gasps, her sweaty, soft body slick against Ginny's sweaty, skinny body. “Merlin, I love you, Ginny. I love you.”</p><p>After a moment, Ginny squeezes Luna tightly. “Love you too,” she whispers.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Neville's letters from Luna begin to get less and less concerned with animals that he cannot bring himself to believe in, and more and more concerned with love and—most disturbingly—sex.</p><p>At first, he's terrified that she's trying to seduce him through the post. But slowly he comes to realize, as Ginny and Harry's names appear more and more frequently in the letters—never together, but always close—that Luna has fallen for someone far more appropriate, for someone with far more adventurous spirit.</p><p>Eventually, it becomes clear that it is with <em>two </em>someones.</p><p>And, he thinks, the someones may reciprocate.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>The skills that might have made Arthur an Auror come into play as he attempts to tail his daughter without arousing the official MLES detail's suspicions. His superior knowledge of Muggle customs serves him well as he takes on a series of disguises: a baseball player, a Viking, a Sikh.</p><p>He guesses immediately whom she meets in the flat-that-is-not-there. But while he is tying his shoe on a day when Ginny's at work, the door opens without anyone there, and he suspects there must be another person.</p><p>At home, embarrassed, he peaks in Ginny's bag: <em>Snorkack Secrets</em>.</p><p>Ah.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Harry realizes far later than perhaps he should. The semi-illusory connection to Ginny has been all that has kept him sane for months.</p><p>Yet while they are curled together on her bed, Harry's heart suddenly seems to crack in two. He stares down at the open, pale face, the closed eyes, the straw-blonde hair, and feels suddenly as if everything good that he thought he knew about himself has been doubled. And halved.</p><p>Is it all a lie? Is this wrong? Does he only care because Luna's <em>here</em>, because her body is warm against his?</p><p>She smiles, and nothing matters.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Laundry reveals all secrets. None of Molly's children realize it, but she knew they had become sexually active long before they would admit it even to each other—blood in Bill's knickers and brown hairs in Charlie's. Thick and nappy in Fred's and fine and lank in George's.</p><p>Never Percy's.</p><p>Ron is gone, but she suspects.</p><p>Ginny, that day she is arrested: three <em>very</em> familiar black hairs. Molly smiles and cries and says nothing.</p><p>But then she begins to bring home blond hair, day after day. So Molly waits until they are alone.</p><p>“Oh, Mum,” Ginny sobs, and tells all.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Harry puts away the Invisibility Cloak and meanders down to the kitchen. No Ron. No Hermione.</p><p>He starts tea.</p><p>Is this wrong? Is he lying? To Luna, to himself? To Ginny? It was her idea, though…</p><p>Harry sighs and sips his tea.</p><p>He loves Luna. He loves Ginny. <em>How</em>?</p><p>Mrs. Morcomb plops her purse on the table.</p><p>“Tea, Hermione?”</p><p>She grunts. Dishwater eyes pierce him; suddenly Harry's mouth goes dry.</p><p>“Hermione…”</p><p>“She loves you both, you know. <em>Really</em>. And Ginny loves her and you. Both. Really.”</p><p>Harry's hands tremble. “Oh. Good.”</p><p>“Tell her, Harry.”</p><p>“Ah.” Panic flares.</p><p>“Harry. Tell her.”<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Bill strokes his sister's hair as she sniffles into his elbow.</p><p>“Merlin, Bill,” she sobs, “what the hell do I do?”</p><p>He tries to think objectively, to offer even the smallest bit of wisdom to help her with her problem, but he cannot in honesty say that he's ever been in a similar situation. There <em>was</em> the time when he was dating Flaminia and Fontina, the Pratchett sisters… but that hadn't ended at all well. “Be honest, Gin. That's all I can say.”</p><p>“Honest?” she snorts.</p><p>“To yourself. To them.”</p><p>She sniffs. “Nothing for it, I guess. After.”</p><p>Bill nods.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Fred and George stare at each other as they retract their Extendable Ears. George hisses, “Did she really just say…”</p><p>“…Harry <em>and</em> Luna?” Fred hisses back, nodding.</p><p>George shakes his head, hoping to clear it, hoping to deny what he's heard. “Luna?”</p><p>Fred laughs. “Yeah! Imagine! Both of them in love with that daft bint?”</p><p>“Oi!” George barks, pushing his brother. “Don't call her that!”</p><p>“What?” Fred says, perplexed. “Not Ginny, you tosser, Loony!”</p><p>George hits his brother's shoulder again, this time with a fist. “<em>Don't</em>!”</p><p>“George? What…?” Fred stammers.</p><p>His brother glares.</p><p>“Oh… Hell,” Fred groans. “George… I'm… sorry.”<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Dearest Flame—<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's time. We're meeting at Headquarters. We need you and the other DA folks there on your favorite chessmaster's birthday at nine.<br/></em>
</p><p><em>I can't wait to see you. I can't. I </em>want<em> you.<br/></em></p><p>
  <em>I have so much to tell you.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I miss you.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm afraid.<br/></em>
</p><p><em>I'm afraid that we've hurt our friend. I'm afraid of my feelings for her. I'm afraid of </em>your <em>feelings—toward me and towards her.<br/></em></p><p>
  <em>The librarian tells me that maybe I shouldn't be afraid, but I am.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I also am sort of happy. If I die, you will have each other.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love,<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Monster<br/><br/><br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beloved Monster,<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BLOODY DIE. DO YOU HEAR ME?<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>There. I said it.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>So, the attack is on. Good.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love you. Always. Know that.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>About our friend. She loves you. I can't blame her.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I couldn't stand to hurt her. Could you?<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>More than that… I care for her too. Different from you, but </em>
  <b>
    <em>love</em>
  </b>
  <em>, and oh, Monster, I'm so frightened. What if one of you is hurt? What if you realize how special she is and forget me?<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>So here's my offer: take us both. Please.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I live to see you.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love, forever,<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Flame<br/><br/><br/><br/></em>
</p><p>Mrs. Froh kicks the cats out of her way and shuffles out her door and sees the girl she thinks of as Alice-through-the-looking-glass, who can't really be there, since the phantom pops in and out of the wall all of the time, ta very much . “Afternoon,” Mrs. Froh grumbles, since one never knows. At least Alice is dressed today.</p><p>“Hello,” she says. “I'm going away. I may not see you again.” To see the other hallucinations no doubt, the redhead and the boy. “I wanted to say goodbye.”</p><p>Mrs Froh grunts. But she is sorry Alice is leaving.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>Ron loiters in the entry, greeting the DA and his family. George and Fred, sullen if you please. The rest of the Weasleys, nervous. Can't blame them.</p><p>Ginny comes in and gives Ron a hug, then—no shock—flies to Harry. They (<em>uggh!</em>) snog a bit, then start to talk, very serious.</p><p>Hermione bites her lip.</p><p>Something's up.</p><p>Loony walks in last, and it's like the whole crowd falls under a silencing spell. All eyes are on her for some reason, though she doesn't notice.</p><p>Ginny and Harry run to her and kiss her. Both.</p><p>Stunned, Ron looks to Hermione. Who smiles.<br/><br/><br/><br/></p><p>After, when Voldemort has finally been released from his torment, the Death Eaters have been freed from their delusion, and the survivors have begun to cheer, Luna does not wait for the celebration to start. She Apparates to her parents' graves and kneels.</p><p>“Hullo, Mummy. Hullo, Daddy,” she whispers, clearing weeds that hide the markers. “We won. I wish you could have been there. I wish…” She sniffles. “Harry and Ginny said such nice things. But they belong together, I think, and I'm just… So I'll be leaving.”</p><p>“Not without us.”</p><p>Luna starts and spins.</p><p>They came. Together. For her.</p>
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